Part 1: Sweep
The city night was covered in a thin layer of fog, the streetlights reflected off the wet road, creating long, sharp reflections like the tips of knives. The chaotic sound of the sparse traffic was torn apart by the roar of a black sports car, its body as sharp as a knife, rushing through the streets like a black arrow cutting through the wind.
Right behind, the red and blue lights of a police car were shining brightly, signaling that the pursuit was reaching its peak. In the cockpit, the young policewoman gripped the steering wheel tightly. She had a slender figure, her uniform hugging her tall figure. The LED lights from the dashboard shone on her smooth white face, highlighting her large, sharp eyes, her gaze focused like a warrior locking onto a target. Her shoulder-length hair swayed with each strong turn of the wheel. Her cheeks were slightly tense, her lips were tightly pressed – full of confidence and enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, in front, a black sports car roared furiously. At the wheel was a scarred-faced yakuza, his face cold as steel, his eyes small but full of danger. His hair, gelled up, did not move even as the car sped forward like a firestorm. In the back, three underlings dressed in black, hooded, were clutching large, bulging bags – the clanking of metal inside signaled the jewelry and cash they had just robbed.
The scarred man glanced at the rearview mirror, a defiant smile on his face. He stepped on the gas.
The sports car accelerated suddenly like a wild beast awakening, the engine roared long and deep, like the roar of thunder. Black smoke billowed out from behind. The car leaned close to the edge of the road, swerving through a crowded corner at a speed that only allowed anyone to hear the wind whistling past like a sword cutting through the air.
The policewoman responded without hesitation.
She slammed on the brakes and shifted gears with a sharp pull, the police car shot forward as if it had wings. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her fingers long and strong, white with force. Her eyes were wide and determined, reflecting the neon light of the passing sign.
The walkie-talkie blared in her car, amid the static:
“Unit 8! His car is evading downtown! Watch out for traffic!”
She did not answer, just lowered herself down and drove the car into the narrow road.
On a section of the street with an overpass, the man with the scar turned the wheel abruptly. The sports car spun sideways, inches from the guardrail, the tires scraping against the pavement with a sharp screech like metal being dragged over stone. Sparks flew from under the car.
The policewoman arrived shortly after, without slowing down. Her heart was beating fast but her eyes remained coldly calm.
She swerved to the left, the police car tilting heavily to one side, the back wheel skidding halfway on the wet pavement, but she held the wheel steady with a clean, powerful movement—so precise it left those watching gasping.
The wind blew her hair lightly, the street lights ran back in long streaks of light.
At the major intersection, the traffic light turned yellow. The scarred man decided not to brake. He drove straight ahead, cutting through the slowing traffic.
The policewoman was still following. Only a few dozen meters to go.
Suddenly, from the other direction, a small truck swerved sharply. The scarred man was startled and turned the wheel sharply to the right.
BOOM!!!
The sports car spun sideways, its rear end scraping against a lamppost. Debris flew everywhere.
The policewoman didn’t have time to completely avoid it – but her reflexes were lightning fast. She threw the steering wheel to the left, then pulled the handbrake in half a second. The police car spun 180 degrees.
But the tail of the out-of-control sports car continued to rush forward.
There was a loud crash.
BOOM!
The two cars collided with such force that the glass shattered into hundreds of pieces that glittered under the streetlights. The sound of steel clashing against steel shook the entire street.
The police car was thrown to one side, spun several times before sliding up the sidewalk, its wheels scraping hard against the guardrail, creating a long trail of flames.
Inside, the policewoman’s body was thrown forward, her seatbelt jerked across her shoulders. A sharp pain shot through her, but she did not faint. Her short hair was messy, but her eyes were still sharp as a knife, her breathing was rapid but strong.
She raised her hand to wipe the thin streak of blood from her forehead, her lips pressed into a determined line.
In the distance, a sports car billowed black smoke. The man with the scar staggered out, and the three men behind him dropped bags of money and jewelry on the road.
She raised her head and looked straight at them.
In the night, her eyes were so bright that they made all four of them stop for a moment.
The chase is over, but…the confrontation has only just begun…
—In recent weeks, the city has been shrouded in a thin layer of uncertainty. News flashes across the big screens in the central square: daring robberies, daring assaults, impossible escapes. All have one thing in common: the professionalism of their actions, suggesting the existence of a mysterious organization, controlling criminals from the shadows.
In the midst of that chaotic time, the name Duong My Na became a symbol of hope.
She is a young, intelligent, sharp, courageous policewoman with outstanding tactical thinking. Her achievements make her superiors proud, her colleagues respect her, and criminals… shiver down their spines just hearing her name.
But tonight, My Na did not have time to think about that reputation.
Because her whole team was racing on the highway, chasing a gang of reckless robbers, the most reckless in the city.
The highway stretched like a silver silk strip across the night sky. On both sides were endless electric poles, the yellow lights on the road creating dancing dots of light under the terrifying speed.
In front of My Na’s car were more than ten large displacement motorcycles, painted in various colors, with a blood-red crow logo on them. Each bike had a modified exhaust pipe, creating a continuous thunderous roar.
They ran in pairs, then split up, then rejoined as if provoking the police.
Extremely arrogant atmosphere.
In the car, My Na held the steering wheel with both hands, her arms slender but strong under her tight police uniform. Her face was illuminated by the traffic lights, her white skin stood out under the neon light. Her big, sharp eyes shone with absolute concentration.
She glanced at the electronic dashboard:
168 km/h
Speed indicator light flashes red.
The car was running at full capacity.
But—
She frowned.
“Too slow…”
Her voice was low, cold, and tinged with annoyance.
The motorbikes in front were accelerating even harder, each leaning low to the ground to squeeze through the small gaps in traffic, creating sharp streaks of light like knives cutting through the darkness.
A voice from the walkie-talkie rang out through the whistling wind:
“Captain Mei Na! The distance is increasing! We can’t keep up with the formation!”
“Captain, warning: there is a bridge ahead, strong winds!”
“Their speed is over 180!”
My Na did not panic.
She leaned forward, her eyes sharp like a bird of prey locking onto a target.
Outside, the wind whipped the car, making it shake slightly, but her hands kept the steering wheel steady, every millimeter steady. Her shoulder-length hair bounced with each shake, a few strands sticking to her pale cheeks.
She bit her lower lip lightly, her eyes flashing with determination.
Suddenly, two of the robbers in front turned around, one raised his hand to signal.
Immediately, the entire group of motorbikes turned on their powerful headlights, the harsh white light flashing like dozens of lightning bolts.
The road ahead was immediately obscured.
My Na gritted her teeth.
Child’s play.
She tilted her head, scanning the edge of the road, using the light reflected off the metal railing and distant sign to navigate.
Then she stepped on the gas and put it in full gear.
The engine roared so loud that it shook the cabin.
The police car swerved out of the lane and shot left like a silver arrow from a bowstring.
Speed increased to 172… 179… 186 km/h.
Her white hands clenched the steering wheel, blue veins bulging on her wrists.
“Captain! What are you…”
“Keep your distance. I’ll hold them off.”
Her voice was sharp but perfectly calm.
Ahead, the bikers began to split into two directions…as if preparing for a dangerous tactic.
My Na narrowed her eyes.
“You guys want to play big…”
She stepped on the gas again.
The police car shot forward, the sound of the wind tearing like the screech of hot steel.
—In the spacious office of the Crime Prevention Police Chief, which should have exuded a serious and authoritative atmosphere, now… growls mixed with the “spit” sound of a storm of saliva being sprayed with level 5 firepower echoed.
The police chief, a middle-aged man with a pot belly, a bald forehead, and a face as red as a ripe gac fruit, was standing in front of his desk. He roared like thunder:
“Duong My Na! How many times have I told you! How! Many! Times!”
With each emphasized word, saliva sprayed out like mini showers.
But the person who was receiving the “rain” — Duong My Na — stood up straight, her hands behind her back, her face completely expressionless.
She looked… at the ceiling.
Not looking at his superior.
Not looking at those fiery eyes.
But… looking straight up at the ceiling with an expression so carefree it was calm.
The sheriff spoke louder and louder:
“You broke nearly ten cars in less than a month!”
Boom! A bang on the table shook the whole room.
“Three cars were burned to the ground and we couldn’t even get the license plates!”
“Five are waiting to be repaired like emergency patients!”
“Do you know where the team’s budget comes from!?”
Saliva sprayed with each sentence, sparkling under the light like spring drizzle.
A policeman standing near the door leaned slightly to avoid… then took another step back because he saw the saliva bullet fly off course.
My Na stood still as a statue.
Her eyes were still fixed on a tiny crack in the ceiling, as if that was all she cared about.
There was only one thought in her head:
“That crack looks like a cat…”
The police chief saw that look and almost had a brain hemorrhage.
He leaned across the table and shouted at the top of his lungs:
“And there is also DAMAGE TO PUBLIC FACILITIES!”
He held up a stack of printer paper thick enough to serve as a pillow.
“12 broken traffic lights!”
“The highway guardrail is bent and damaged for 40 meters!”
“Three toll stations must replace all glass!”
“And then the story about you… climbing onto the roof of the bus, jumping through the glass window to catch a criminal?!?”
My Na pursed her lips, “Nodded” lightly, completely shamelessly said:
“The sweep was effective.”
“WHAT EFFECTIVE!?! THAT’S A PUBLIC SERVICE VEHICLE!!!”
Another horrible spit flew out, causing the policeman on duty outside the door to instinctively cover his face.
My Na blinked a few times to wipe the saliva from her eyelids, but her face… remained calm as ever.
She finally lowered her eyes… to look at the sheriff.
Her voice was low and logical:
“But the criminals were all caught, sir.”
The sheriff banged his forehead on the table.
“I KNOW!!! But can you catch them WITHOUT destroying national property!?!”
She thought seriously for two seconds.
“… I will try.”
“Try not to destroy or try to destroy more?!”
My Na was silent.
The police chief held his chest and breathed as if he had just climbed 10 flights of stairs.
An employee next to him whispered to his colleague:
“If the captain laughs, the boss will faint on the spot…”
My Na looked at them, then looked back at the crack in the ceiling.
And in her head, a gentle thought popped up:
“That crack… still looks like a cat.”
—After the “boss-level saliva rain” stopped, the room fell into an odd silence:
silence… but with the strong smell of a storm that had just passed.
Chief of Police Tang Yi stood there panting as if he had just run 3 kilometers. He wiped his mouth, adjusted his collar, and glanced out the window.
He pulled the curtain slightly.
Outside, in the police station’s working area, the junior police officers all pretended to be engrossed in their computer screens, typing furiously and filing files like industrial robots.
But…
Everyone’s ears perked up like antennas.
Just listening through the glass, you could tell they were listening… to every word.
Duong Nghi narrowed his eyes.
Some people outside tried to turn away and cover their mouths to laugh.
Some men elbowed their colleagues, some women coughed to hide their laughter.
Duong Nghi jerked the curtain and shouted:
“Nothing to do… get to work!”
His voice rang out, making the entire office outside shiver like a wind blowing across a field.
But when he closed the curtains, several people glanced at each other and breathed a sigh of relief:
“Escaped the ‘storm’…”
“Poor Captain My Na…”
In the room, Duong My Na was still standing there.
Perfect posture.
Calm face.
Eyes… still looking up at the ceiling, where she discovered the cat-shaped crack.
Duong Nghi let out a long sigh like history.
Already…
The desk phone suddenly rang.
“Ring ring ring…ring ring ring ring”
The bell rang sharply and urgently, like the alarm of fate.
Duong Nghi was startled.
He frowned and gestured to My Na:
“Go out first.”
She nodded slightly, turned around and walked out with a very “calm captain” look, passing by her subordinates who were pretending not to see but saw very clearly.
As soon as the door closed…
Duong Nghi picked up the phone.
He managed to say exactly two words:
“Report…”
On the other end of the line,
an extremely authoritative voice, even sounding two levels older than him, roared:
“ROAD! CONGRESS! EXPLAIN IT TO ME!!”
Saliva… although invisible, the sound through the phone sounded like mist was hitting the microphone.
Duong Nghi froze.
He looked at the phone as if it had just turned into a time bomb.
“Yes… sir…”
“WHY IS THERE A CAR FIRE REPORT FROM YOUR OFFICE EVERY MONTH!?”
“…Yes…”
“WHAT IS A 200% INCREASE IN TRAFFIC DAMAGE COST!?”
“…yes that… um…”
“AND WHO JUMPED FROM THE ROOF OF THE FREEWAY TO THE ROOF OF THE TRUCK!?!”
Duong Nghi trembled slightly:
“…Yes… my daughter.”
The other end of the line was silent for a second.
Then:
“….A GIRL!?! YOU HAVE TO KEEP HER EVEN MORE THAN TOO WARNING! HOW DID YOU RAISE HER TO BECOME A DESTRUCTIVE GOD!?!”
The storm of saliva continues to attack through the phone signal.
Duong Nghi sat down on the chair, one hand holding his forehead.
In his mind flashed the image of the past:
Duong Nghi – A single man but has been a father for 10 years.
The day his younger brother Duong Khai and sister-in-law Trieu Thanh Nha died in a traffic accident, he still clearly remembers the scene of little Duong My Na standing still, her big red eyes, looking at her parents’ portrait, her tiny 10-year-old hand tightly gripping his shirt.
A smart, calm, quiet child.
The only child his younger brother left behind, the one he promised to protect with his life.
When she grew up, he thought she would become a doctor like her parents wanted.
But…who…would have thought…
She applied to the police academy.
That day he almost choked on his breakfast porridge.
He stopped.
He reasoned.
He talked about the risks.
He talked about how dangerous the job was.
But the girl just looked at him calmly:
“Foster father, I am suitable for this job.”
And it fits.
Shooting competition: 1st place.
Martial arts: knock out the entire male team.
Investigation: perfect score.
Internship: solve a case that the experienced team still can’t find a clue about.
Duong Nghi was secretly proud, even though he always appeared serious on the outside.
But when he graduated…
He became a team leader…
Then he broke cars, broke toll booths, broke highway railings…
The pride in his heart turned 180 degrees like a ship that lost its rudder and direction.
And now, when he heard his boss roaring on the phone, he just wanted to hide under the table:
“Yes sir… chief… the girl… is actually very good…”
“I KNOW IT’S GOOD!!! SO GOOD THAT NEXT YEAR’S BUDGET WILL NOT HAVE ENOUGH FOR IT!!”
Duong Nghi wanted to cry.
He sighed… as long as his life as a father.
In the small conference room of the crime prevention team, after the police chief had just finished spitting on the young team leader, the atmosphere became silent… but not a serious silence, but a silence of trying to hold back laughter.
The team leader – still standing there, straight posture, chin in hand, eyes looking up at the ceiling as if watching… spider webs. As if all the scolding just now was just the sound of a babbling brook in the forest.
The moment the police chief stepped out of the room to go to the restroom, the whole team exploded like an open pressure cooker:
“Hey, hey… how is she?!”
“I thought she would cry after he scolded her like that… but unexpectedly she was calmer than a lake in autumn.”
“You’re so cool, but people are destroying the city!”
At the next table, a young policeman wiped the table and sighed:
“Last week I wrote the report on the damage to the company car three times. Her name was still on the first page…”
Another woman shook her head and put on her glasses:
“The finance office would probably shiver if they heard her name now.”
“Car number 18 lost both doors, car number 21 had a broken rear axle, car number 6 burned completely… and every time the cause was recorded as the same: ‘While chasing the subject.’”
The rest of the people followed:
“Hey, I’m serious, who chased a criminal and ran into… three noodle stalls in one month?!”
“She also destroyed the central flower garden!”
The whole room laughed so hard that the chairs shook.
The new soldier asked again, trembling:
“So… why is she still the captain?”
Everyone was silent for 2 seconds, then an old man put down his coffee cup and said as if it was the obvious truth of the universe:
“Because she’s the best criminal on the team.”
Another sister added:
“So good that any car he gets in leaves with honor.”
“But I have to admit, the captain is really brave. Yesterday, he chased a robber right at the entrance of the shopping mall. People thought the crew was filming a blockbuster!”
The whole room burst out laughing again.
In the corner, the team leader was still standing, arms crossed, her face unchanged… but her eyes narrowed slightly, the corners of her lips slightly raised.
Obviously… she heard everything.
And it’s very possible…
It’s very possible…
These people would soon be on the “volunteers to accompany the captain next week” list.
It was late. The alley was bathed in an old yellow light, flickering through the leaves of the trees.
She walked into her rented house—small but tidy: a small living room, a bedroom big enough for a single bed, and a cozy kitchen. There was only one thing that always bothered her: the bathroom was in the back, separated by a small courtyard.
She sighed, tiredly took off her coat, name tag, and badge, and hung them all on a hanger. She grabbed a towel and quickly walked to the bathroom behind the house.
She stripped naked, the cool water from the shower seemed to wash away all the fatigue of the day. Her hair was loose, her eyes were closed, her breathing slowed. But just as she was about to apply shampoo to her hair…
“Crack… crack…”
The last drop fell.
Then silence.
She opened her eyes.
Look up the faucet.
Not a drop left.
Her face was stiff… covered in soap from head to neck, down to her body, her hair stood up like a bird’s nest. Her whole body was white with foam like a misshapen stone statue.
She muttered softly:
“No way… right now?”
Looked around — there was no way to continue bathing. The main faucet was dead, and the bucket was empty.
Then her eyes glanced to the right. She
walked slowly to the wall. Through the crack in the wall… was the neighbor’s small villa — quiet, clean, with a large yard with a bamboo garden and a large water tap for watering the plants.
She frowned.
Considered for 0.2 seconds.
Then—with a stroke—the small body jumped up like a cat, sitting neatly on the branch of a luxuriant jackfruit tree growing close to the wall.
Hair full of foam.
Shoulders full of foam.
Even the whole body full of foam.
On the jackfruit tree, she kept a watchful eye like a secret agent infiltrating a criminal’s den. Seeing that it was safe, she gently crawled over the edge of the wall and jumped down soundlessly onto the ground on the other side.
She ran through the bamboo garden, looking like a snow-covered forest mascot. She turned the faucet slowly, the creaking sound almost making her heart jump out of her chest.
flowing water
She breathed a sigh of relief.
Quickly rinsed off the foam from her body, her hands moving like someone washing dishes before closing time at the restaurant.
Suddenly…!
“Growl…”
The big dog, chained in the corner of the yard, raised its head. Its eyes glistened, moving from side to side.
It looked her way for a few seconds.
Then… yawned and lay down.
No more cares.
She did not dare to breathe heavily.
With that done, she jumped over the wall as quickly as she had come, disappearing from the villa’s garden without leaving a trace—except for a few drops of water.
Back home…
Steam still lingering on her shoulders, she walked to the mirror hanging near the door. She reached out to lightly shake her short, wavy hair, the strands clinging to her cheeks made her cold appearance even more fragile in this rare moment. Not wanting to waste time, she grabbed a soft cotton towel, quickly drying her hair, each movement quick but neat, showing the familiarity of someone who lives alone and always handles everything on her own.
When her hair was only slightly damp, she threw the towel on the chair, turned around and walked to the wardrobe. Without thinking much, she took out a pair of small, soft black panties, the edges decorated with delicate lace, creating a gentle yet sharp charm. She quickly slipped her legs into them, pulling them up: the black color lay between her round buttocks, highlighting her buttocks and slim waist in the dim yellow light of the room.
Her chest area, not ostentatious but only evoking fullness and balance, as if containing the healthy vitality of youth.
The pants shook slightly with each movement as she adjusted them, the lace at the crotch adding an air of mystery to her.
Her face was still the same—cold, calm, no smile, only deep eyes glancing quickly toward the kitchen door.
Without a sound, she turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen. Her bare feet stepped on the cool tile floor, leaving behind the faint scent of her shower. The small kitchen was at the far end of the house, the lamp casting a warm yellow light that made the space seem quieter, contrasting with the coldness of her presence.
She walked straight, her still-wet hair swaying gently, her steps steady, her appearance both tired and determined—like someone accustomed to long, quiet nights and thoughts that are not easily put into words.
Going down to the kitchen, she opened the milk carton, poured a full glass, and drank it all in one gulp, like a “soldier who just survived a battle”.
Finished, she threw herself onto the small sofa. The living room light was warm yellow, a thin blanket covered her. The phone in her hand only had time to scroll through a few messages…
Eyelids drooping.
She fell asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful — looking completely opposite from the image of “the person who destroyed the official car while chasing a criminal” that the whole team had been talking about this morning…!!!
Tags: Policewoman – Update Part 4